Lady and Leareth
by Rhiannon15
Summary: This is something I did with a friend at 1:00 at night. It's perverted and disgusting and not for the tender of mind. But I think it is well written.


Wyronde Roderick drew her cloak closer around her throat and calmed her horse, "Gentle, Hamni. No need to worry we'll be out of the forest soon." She said, hoping that this was true for not only her horse's sake. The fog had closed them in. muffling all sound like a great damp feather blanket. Water from the mist formed little clear pearls in her hair. She peered through the trees. Were they still on the road? She couldn't tell. This looked like a path at least. They kept on forward slowly and with all due caution.  
  
The trees did seem to be thinning more. Were they almost out of this dreadful forest? She dearly hoped so. She would be grateful for a bed and warm food at the inn that was just outside of the forest. She might even be able to get some work there. There weren't any current prominent wars, so there was not much work, only little jobs and cat-fights, for a traveling mercenary.  
  
The temperature was dropping now. Wyr started shivering. Then the first howl came. It was a blood curdling sound. A double helix of fear spiraled up her spine. Hamni heard it to. The horse bolted. It was all she could do stay on Hamni's back. Hamni dove off the path and bolted for the deep forest. She looked up to see a tree branch up ahead. A tree branch that would in a few moments would crash into her if she didn't abandon Hamni now. She jumped.  
  
She hit the ground, rolling to take up the impact. Her shoulders jarred and ached a moment but her neck was not broken and she was fine. But the wolves were still out there, and she was lost in the middle of the forest. The fog was still thick but in the cold it was gathering and above her the sky was dark with low hanging clouds that spoke loudly of snow. She looked around and picked a direction that looked right. She went that way.  
  
It began to snow, at first lightly then more. Soon the snow was thick as the fog had been. She could barely see her hand in front of her face. She kept her hands out so she didn't blunder into a tree. Then she noticed a light. She hoped that she had gotten out of the forest was at the out skirts and just hadn't noticed because of the think snow.  
  
She finally reached the light. It was the porch light of a house. Or rather, maybe a tower, she could not see how high up it went. She quickly scrambled up the icy stone steps to the front door and took the knocker in her hands and gave it a few brutal raps.  
  
The door opened and a man who was clearly a servant looked out. His face was pale in the light of the torch he carried. Behind him was the beginning of a stone corridor.  
"I am a lost traveling mercenary. I was caught in the storm and saw your light. May I stay through the storm here? I won't take any of your time. I'll just keep to myself. But I need to get of the storm." She said. The servant and retreated with her message holding up a finger telling her to wait before he closed the door and went presumably in search of his master.  
  
Soon he reappeared, nodding and beckoning her in, "Come. You may stay here." She obediently followed. It was a pleasure to be out of the storm but she felt her heart beat picking up and she felt as if someone was watching her. She felt a faint tingling of fear sizzling at the tips of her little hairs that stood on end at the back of her neck.  
  
"This way Lady." said the servant. She hurried forward after him. "This is to be your room for now Lady." said the servant. They had stopped outside an oak door. The servant took out a key and opened the room. Inside were a desk, a bed, a book case, and small corner with a screen that she supposed was a bathing and changing room.  
  
"You should wash up and go to dinner. We will wash your clothes if you wish." The servant was being very generous and despite her little misgivings this place seemed to be nice enough, and it would be so good to be clean and in clean clothes again so she thanked him for the offer and he told her to leave the clothes on the bed while she bathed. A young maid would attend to her needs, if she needed anything all she had to do was ring. Then he handed her a little bell and whisked himself away to whatever he was supposed to be doing.  
  
She settled back into the hot water with a sigh. Her misgivings left her as she reclined in the bath, soaking her tired road worn muscles. She hoped that Hamni was alright. But she needed not worry, Hamni had a smart head on its horsy shoulders, and a good set of teeth in that head as well as iron shod hooves. She would be fine. She resigned herself to washing up, ducking under the water to clear the last of the suds from her hair. Then she got out of the bath and wrapped herself up in a warm fluffy bath towel that hung on a rack in the changing room. She went out from behind the screen, taking the young maid at the fire by surprise.  
"Do you perchance, know of anything I could wear? My clothes are getting cleaned."  
"Why sure Lady. Let me get you something." said the maid. Wyr nodded and went back behind the screen to wait.  
  
"Will this do Lady?" said the maid as she reentered holding a dress of red velvet and gold silk.  
"That is very kind of you to think of that, but I am a mercenary, not truly a Lady. If you have breaches and a blouse I would be very much obliged."  
"Sure, my.uh.Lady." The maid scurried away to get the garments.  
  
She returned with a pair of leather breaches and a white silk blouse.  
  
"That will do perfectly. Thank you for your effort." said Wyr. "I'll just go put these on." Wyr turned and went behind the screen to wriggle into the clothes. She emerged and asked the maid politely, "Now could you point me in the direction of the dinning hall?"  
"Follow me, please." said the maid.  
  
Wyr followed the maid down the corridors till they got to a pair of heavy wood doors. The maid pushed the door open and announced Wyr.  
"Lady Wyronde Roderick." She said before gently shoving Wyr forward. Wyr tried to look as if she was calm as if this was normal. She was a mercenary, not a Lady. But let them think what they wanted. She was looking around the room with interest. There were only one or two people at dinner. At the head of the table was a man who was clearly the master of this house. Wyr could feel the sense of competence and position radiating off him. He should have been handsome. His features were comely and he looked like a statue. But still he put her at ill ease. They others in the room were a few young men. Apprentices if she guessed right. The man at the head of the table looked straight into her eyes-as if offering a challenge, she looked just a fiercely right back.  
"Welcome Lady Wyronde, I am Leareth." His voice was cold and a little lilting.  
"Thank you Lord Leareth for you generosity, I greatly appreciate it."  
"You are welcome. Nobility such as you deserves as much." said Leareth. The apprentices sniggered at that as if they found it funny.  
"Lord Leareth, I fear you are mistaken. I am not a Lady, I am a mercenary."  
  
There was a silence that made Wyr uncomfortable. Then Leareth broke the silence.  
"Do not worry yourself. Mercenaries are just as important as nobility. With out mercenaries where would we be? No do not feel ashamed or ill put. We welcome you whether you are a mercenary or a Lady."  
"Thank you, Lord Leareth."  
  
The rest of the dinner passed in silence. Wyr retreated to her designated room after dinner and sat on the bed reading till she felt sleep creep over her.  
  
It was dark. There was no one but her. She was safe, finally. She had escaped. She lit the candle and gathered her things. She would leave. She would never come back. She was just about to slip out the back door when He was suddenly there.  
"Where do you think you're going my little Roni?" He said. She couldn't make her lips move. He caught the neck of her shirt and thrust her up against the cabinet.  
"I said, where are you going?" He growled shaking her a little. She could only splutter. Her fear and panic were showing clearly in her eye and He could see that easily. He smiled.  
  
She woke shivering, and not from the cold. Her hair was damp and her skin clammy with cold sweat. She drew several deep breaths. She was fine. She was out of the storm in the house of some noble lord. Not some bastard whelp of a man who enjoyed torturing little girls. No she was safe. He was no longer any part of her life. She was now Wyr, the mercenary. She was no longer a timid toy girl. She had a mind and she was a tactician. But still she was haunted with memories. She shuddered at those memories. She drew her blankets up close and tried for sleep again. She found it and it was not clouded by memories of the past, but dreamless.  
  
She woke to the maid's quite bustling.  
"There's a bath ready for you Lady." She said as soon as it was apparent that Wyr was awake.  
"Thank you."  
"Breakfast is not a group meal. You may eat what you want. I will get it for you."  
"Thank you." said Wyr gratefully. "Porridge would be fine."  
"I'll get some then. You clothes are clean." Said the maid pointing to where the clothes were draped over the screen. Wyr wondered how they had been dried so fast. But she didn't question. Instead she slipped behind the curtain and got dressed.  
  
She ate breakfast and then for lack of nothing else to do. She wandered around the place. It was large, all in one building, no connecting buildings. But if it snowed like this often then that made sense. She did not open any doors. She just walked the corridors for exercise. But she did come upon an indoor room for weaponry. The door was open so she went in. she wondered who to ask for her own sword back. Her sword was one that seemed to be part of her arm. They moved together seamlessly, where one began and the other ended was hard to know.  
  
She picked up a practice sword from a rack and began her practice dances. She worked up a sweat over an hour. Then she slowed and stretched and did a cool-down dance and put the sword up. She retreated to her room and ate lunch then read till dinner for lack of anything else to do.  
  
She ate dinner again with Lord Leareth and the apprentices in the dinner hall and later retired to her room to read more. But when she slept she had no dreams. Instead she woke and that became her dream, and her fear. And sleep became more desirable then consciousness.  
  
She woke up to not the maid but a pounding on her door. She slipped out of bed and put on clothes and went to the door. She opened it,  
"Who?" she asked. There were two guards standing there.  
"We are to take you to Lord Leareth." The guard with the beard said in a gruff voice.  
"Why?"  
"Do not ask questions. It is best not to question his Lordship Master Dark."  
"Who?"  
"Follow us." said the thinner guard in a high falsetto.  
  
She was lead to a room that she had not noticed on her previous walk around.  
"In here Lady." said the bearded gruff-voiced guard. She went in curiously. It was a plain room with no adornment of any kind except for a chair which was occupied by the man Lord Leareth.  
"Master Dark?" said the thin guard with the high falsetto.  
"Yes, this is her. I thank you for you time. If you would, wait out side." Both guards bowed themselves out leaving her alone with this man, Lord Leareth, Master Dark.  
  
"Strip." He said.  
"What?" she said incredulously.  
"I said, strip."  
"No."  
"Do not force me." he said, his tone resonating in a pitch and force she knew well. She immediately, if against her own will did as he had asked. She had heard that tone one to many times form Him.  
"Turn." She did. She tried to feel what was coming next, where this road was going. She didn't want to know. Her mind supplied all the horror stories she had ever heard of the barbaric Lords of the west.  
  
Leareth took a step forward, kicking her clothes aside and out of reach. He toward above her in her mind, even though they stood eye for eye, in her mind he was a Goliath. She tried not to shrink and quail.  
"Well, obedient are we?" he breathed.  
"No." she said calmly, or as calmly as she could.  
"Well we should be, or else bad things could happen. Right?" Leareth sounded exactly like Him. She froze trying to wrench her mind out of the past. She had escaped the last time; this was nothing to worry about. He reached out with one hand and ran his fingernail down her bare arm. She shuddered and stepped away.  
"Will we obey?"  
"No." she said, calling on her fear to feed her defiance."  
"We do not know what we say then."  
"Yes I do. I want you to give me my clothes and let me go." she said, trembling inside.  
"No. you shall not go. You are mine now. You cannot leave; it would be certain death by storm. And I am careful of who I let leave or not. I do not broadcast my existence here, and you will not either." He looked at her and she quailed. "That's right my little pet. Now put on your clothes like a good girl and follow my nice guards to your new room. Can't have you escaping now can we?"  
  
She hurriedly put on her clothes thankful for the cloth to hide her body from his eyes. She turned to follow the guards who had reentered as soon as she was dressed. But as she left she called,  
"You cannot break me. I am not just some silly little girl. You will pay for this." she glared over her shoulder at him as the guards grabbed her wrists and dragged her down the corridor.  
  
She was put in a damp cell. It was all cold stone except for a bit of straw and a bench that was fixed to the floor. The door was thick wood impossible to break down. It had a little iron grate in the top where someone could look in at her if need be.  
  
She sat on the straw. She sighed. She had been more then one cell in her time as a mercenary. But this Leareth, this Master Dark, this Lord.he rekindled her long put to rest fear. The way he had ran his fingernail down her arm, the look in his eyes, his cruelty; they all reminded her of Him. She thought she had laid that ghost to rest long ago. Was he not dead by her own hand? And still he haunted her. She remembered in the images of the very young mind, her fear, her terror, her shame, her anger. He was dead now. But she still wished to have at him for all that he had done to her. A guardian was supposed to look after their charge, not use and abuse them. At the time she had not had the strength to kill him, or the courage. It was only later when she knew more and had experience that she killed him. She had killed quickly and cleanly. And though she had rid the earth of his presence she still wished that she had him to kill again and again and again.  
  
She seethed at the wall. She should have said something, at least hit him in the face. She should not have just stood there and done what he asked. But this Master Dark, Leareth, was too much like Him for her not to obey. She remembered her punishments. But she was a woman now. She should be able to stand up for herself. After all she had done.and yet she was paralyzed. I will spit in his face next time. She decided.  
  
She sat on the floor with nothing else to do.  
"How long do you think she'll last?" asked the guard with the high falsetto.  
"She's tougher then the others. She'll last longer. No doubt she'll end up the same. But still Master Dark will be pleased I think." Wyr listened to this with new coming fear. The others? Who were they? How long would she last? This made her worried, as did the soft laughter that drifted though the door that was response to these comments.  
  
She was woken harshly some time later by a rap on the door. She was given a soupy watery gruel. She ate with a rough wooden spoon. When she was done she put the bowl and spoon by the door and lay back down to sleep. That was one thing she could catch up on years of lost sleep.  
  
She was woken for a second time some interminable amount of time latter. She was hauled bodily to her feet by the two guards. She did not lend them any of her strength and let them haul her up by themselves with out her consent. She did walk though when the prodded her out of her sell. She glared at them with a sullen red anger.  
"What this time? Do you sissies intend to "break me"? Ha! Well this may be as much fun for you as for me. Do you have a sword that I could borrow?" she sneered.  
"No miss, I'm sorry. We are forbidden to arm you."  
"You would think. This Leareth can't fight his own battles!" she fell into surly silence for the rest of their walk. The guards led her deeper into the underground area of the house.  
  
She was brought out of hall and into a room that was much like the one she had met Leareth in earlier. Except that it had more then one piece of furniture, but she averted her eyes and in stead looked for Leareth and as she had decided earlier she walked up to him, as soon as her guards released her and retreated, looked him straight in the eye and said,  
"This is what I think of you!" and spit in his face. He cursed, wiping his eyes. She took that moment to bolt for the door. The guards were not quick enough. She was through the door that had not yet been barred and back up the corridor. But soon she was lost. She looked for a place to hide, but found none. She kept running. She knew that any moment the whole house would be alerted and looking for her. And she also knew that the blizzard was still in full tilt. That was a certain death, but death-by- blizzard was preferable to what appeared to lie ahead of her. She went in search of the door.  
  
She never found the door outside. Instead the guards found her. They cornered her down a dead end and picked her up and tied her hands and brought her back to the room. This time they barred the door and gave the key to Leareth. She again stood before him but this time with her hands tied behind her back. He raised one graceful marble white and hard hand and brought it down across her cheek and jaw. She felt as if he had broken her jaw, but she only glared at him.  
"It is simply dislocated." He said as if he did this every day. He reached forward and popped her jaw back into place with one ice-cold hand. She shivered at that touch. He smiled his smile icy and cold as his hand.  
  
"Strip her." He ordered to the guards. She was striped bare. Her good riding clothes in shreds on the floor, she was wrestled on to a table her feet were spread to either side of the table and shackled onto the table by impossibly strong iron shackles. Her hands were untied then just long enough for them too to be shackled to the table.  
"Now, you are vulnerable." He said, "You are unable to rescue yourself. Words cannot defend against pain. Every one can be broken." He spoke with a chilling matter-of-factness that made the words ring true. He knew. He knew how to break her he read the every twitch of her eyelid for what it meant. He knew.  
"The willow has far to bow before breaking. And when it does break if falls on the woodcutter. And if it is released before it is fully broken then it causes as much damage as it would if it fell on the cutter. You do not know what you deal with. Your tortures can only increase the pain that will come to you in the end." She said with every fiber of her soul resonating with a terror that made her heart chill, for where her words were strong, it was only a façade.  
  
Leareth reached into the folds of his robe and came up with a tiny dagger, the blade with thin as paper and so sharp it seemed to pierce the eye that gazed upon it. Looking at it Wyr felt her eyes widen in panic. But she was already scared and her body had seen worse on the battle field. But that was when she had a sword in hand to defend and revenge.  
  
Leareth walked over to her till he was above her. The knife was held firmly in his hand. That evil little smile of confidence and lust-pleasure played around his lips as he brought the knife down and ran it down her body breaking the skin only the littlest bit, Like a long paper-cut, and her screaming began.  
  
She stood back in her own cell, alone. She could not lay down for all that her legs ached. Pressure felt good on her wounds, but she was too worried about infection. They had not given her back clothes and she shivered. She felt the tears slipping down her face in little rivulets, leaving iridescent snail tracks behind. She had cried before but she had never felt this horrible. Without friendly face or hope. She had fought and fought willingly with a friend behind her guarding her back, or in front of her leading the way, she had fought alone for money or what she thought was right, she had been in the darkest places and found the light of love, friendship, and hope. But here in the dark those seemed worlds away.  
  
She finally, against her better judgment, lay down and drifted to sleep. She did not know how long she slept it was always a kind of dim twilight evening in her cell. She was given food and water and then she went back to sleep. She woke again and sat on the floor till sleep came to her again. Then she was awoken, but quietly this time. The maid who had tended to her earlier was there. Wyr rose to her feet. The maid gasped and her eyes were fully of pity.  
"I am truly sorry for this Lady. He is usually more kind and he kills people out right, you must have offended him or talked back to him. Here, I have brought you a bath then I must inspect you cuts. Leareth for his own reasons wants you fully alive for all his tortures." The maid left only a moment and returned with a bucket of steaming clean water. "Get in if you would and soak a moment. You may speak as freely as you wish. I will not report anything you say. We all here feel as you do or have at one time or anther. We all do not like milord Leareth. But be that as it may we have no choice; we all serve him or die." Wyr nodded and climbed into the tub of hot water.  
  
She talked with the maid for a few hours then the maid handed her a bar of soap and instructed her to clean her cuts no matter how much it stung. Wyr did so clenching her teeth on the curses and yelps of pain that were behind them. Then the maid brought in a clean bucket of water and Wyr rinsed herself and dried off then the maid left. But as Wyr was arranging her straw to sleep the maid came back with a little bundle of clothing.  
"I got this. You mustn't infect your cuts so I got these clothes for you." It was a big shirt and baggy pants. "They are the best I could wheedle out for you."  
"They're wonderful." said Wyr sincerely.  
"If you would like, my name is Della. And if you would I would like to call you a friend. I have too few of those here. I would like it if you would be a friend, and I would be yours." said the maid, Della.  
"I would be honored Della, my name is Wyronde, you may call me Wyr." Wyr smiled, "All my friends call me Wyr."  
  
Days passed then. She could not count the hours for she had no time candle and the light was always the same, but from the amount she slept and when the meals came she thought it might have been a few days. She saw no more of Della. But she hardly thought that she would. Della had her duties and it might be fatal for Leareth to know that Della and she had become friends.  
  
Then later, she was roused from a drowse by a knock on the door, and then Della entered. From the moment that Della entered Wyr knew something was wrong.  
"What is it?" she asked.  
"Someone has come." said Della.  
"People don't usually come here." Wyr surmised.  
"Truth to tell, you were the first in almost a year. Now this man has shown up."  
"Ah, and what has this to do with me?"  
"Naught, but Leareth has required that you appear at dinner. I have a dress that you must wear. Now hurry." said Della.  
  
A few hours later she was formally clad and looking like the Lady she supposedly was. She entered the dinner hall and the guest and Leareth and the apprentices were already there.  
"Ah, the Lady of the house. Sir, meet my wife Shieenia." said Leareth waving an elegant hand in her direction. Wyr was too surprised to respond. She just sat where Leareth had motioned to and sat as if dumb. The man, who was dressed all in a peculiar white uniform, smiled at her kindly. She immediately liked him; he had an honest feeling to him. Not deceit cloaked in velvet like Lord Leareth, but stark white truth like his uniform.  
  
Dinner was a rather silent affair with the newcomer dropping the odd question every once in a while. But she felt that something under the surface was happening here. There was the sense of a building storm. Something in the structure of the room stirred and ancient powers seemed to shift in their ever dormant slumber. The power had an evil taint to it. It was gathering to Leareth and directed at the man in white. She was sure he could feel it. The apprentices could, they shifted awkwardly in their seats. The feeling of anticipation grew.  
  
Then suddenly Leareth stood, "I do not let people stray on my land. I am sorry for you trespassing. You may not leave. The penalty for trespassing is death. You should well know that. And I am sorry that you failed to heed my warnings. I will have to." but before he could finish his sentence Wyr surged to her feet. She knocked over her bench in her struggle to rise. She knew what was about to happen even if the man did not. She tore over to Leareth's side, taking him by surprise. She stretched up and, fighting down her revulsion, she planted her lips firmly on his. She reached down to his waist where she had seen him place his dagger, and deftly slid it out of its sheath. She broke the kiss with a quake of disgust. She slid the dagger up to Leareth's throat.  
"Say a word, kill this man and I will kill you." she whispered into the dead silence of the dinner hall. Leareth was frozen. But she knew it was only for a moment. He was more powerful then she. She turned for a fraction of a second and screamed to the man in white,  
"RUN! The door is that way." She yelled pointing with her free hand. "Go now. Tell no one of this and forget and go. Save your life and never return. GO. NOW! RUN!" That was all the man needed. He broke and ran for the door.  
  
She knew that the man was out of Leareth's reach but she was still standing an inch from his nose.  
"So." he hissed reaching up and twisting her arm painfully so that she gasped and dropped the knife as her fingers went numb, it clattered dully to the floor like ill omen. "That is the way it is to be. You have made your choice, whether right, or wrong. You will now suffer. You have stirred my rage foolish girl. You underestimate my strength. I promise you before you die you will beg me for your death." He glared at her. But then that glare melted into a more frightening expression. "Or maybe, you will not die." He reached up and ran his fingertips lightly over her cheek and along her jaw, "maybe I will keep you. You could be so entertaining. Yes. That sounds even better." His fingers brushed across her lips lighter then a kiss, "that kiss you gave me was no love-peck; no you have passion even if it comes from your anger. And it is so interesting. Yes we will have much to do together." He smiled that cruel self-satisfied smile into her eyes, "think on that little warrior. Think on that and feel the growing fear in you heart. Feel that and know pain and despair. You will come to know them all well before we part our ways." He shoved her towards her guards, who caught her arms and pulled them behind her back and tied her hands there.  
"Now go to your room and wait with anticipation for our next meeting. It will not be too long I promise." She felt her eyes widen in that panic that was becoming familiar. He just smiled and laughed a cruel ringing laugh that followed her down the corridor as the guards dragged her to her room. That laughter still haunted her as she drifted to her restless sleep.  
  
Sleep was her friend, her preservation. The facts of her captivity were a harsh reality and sleep blurred and softened the hard edges. Della did not come. The maid had said she would try whenever she could to visit, but not to count on it.  
  
Day passed. Days that seemed to stretch into an eternity, years seemed to pass as she sat in the dark. But in reality it was no less then a week. She was awake when the guards came for her again.  
"What does his Royal "Majesty" Leareth command of you this time? To torture me into inexistence? I have as much hand to hand to combat as you!" she said, bluffing only a little.  
"No, miss, he is much pleased with your show of resistance, more game then." The guard said sympathetically. That sympathy was chilling. He talked with complete earnestly as if he knew what Leareth would do and pitied her for it. "Come now, we don't want to keep Leareth waiting."  
  
She followed him to the room that was going to become a strong point of phobia. For the rest of her life if she ever entered a room like it in the littlest way she would begin to shake and it would go down hill from there.  
  
The guards retreated out of the room giving the keys to Leareth. Leareth smiled at her and licked his lips sensuously.  
"Well, little warrior, have you thought on what I said of pain?"  
"I have thought and come to the conclusion that you are a self- centered pinheaded bastard!" she spat.  
"Harsh. Dear, you must understand it is for your own good as much as mine. So why don't you sit back, relax and enjoy it all rather then fighting tooth and nail all the way? But no, your refusal is immensely amusing." That smile played around his lips again.  
"Your refusal is so inviting. And I remember our last meeting as I am sure you do. You lost me a perfectly good death. I could have used that for blood magic. But I can use you. Your fear generates more energy then you would think."  
"I am so sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to hinder you, tell me please." She snarled.  
"Oh, no I think not. No you are mine. You are mine to use. You will never have the upper hand you are mine."  
"That thought is a deceptive one. I will not be yours the day I have my sword. And that day may face you before you know it!"  
"Enough of you banter of words! I will do as I please." He walked over to her and with the bare strength it took to lift a finger he had her cuffed to the bed-like-table. He waved his hand and looked at her and she felt her clothes dissipate under that gaze. They left her defenseless and naked strapped to the table.  
  
"Now, I have been considering the problem you pose," Leareth said conversationally, "And I have come to the conclusion that you should be used for my own pleasure. You see your fear of me will also help. You cringe every time I touch you." he reached out as if to prove it and she shrank away from his hand even though she had willed herself to stay unmoved, "and that fear I can use in blood magic. You benefit me in many ways, and even if you are a nuisance, your attributes and virtues counterweigh our surly out spoken ways." She knew what was coming in her heart and she shook inwardly. But she could do nothing.  
"So now I will take you up on that kiss and see if that is your only good feature."  
  
He lowered himself down next to her running a hand down her thigh. She gasped as his cold hand touched her skin. It hurt! His smile fell around her in lancing bolts of an eclipsed sun. Then he was atop her, he too with out a single stitch to his name, and her whole skin was afire with the pain that had been in her thigh.  
  
She lay crying silently. Leareth straightened up, his black robes materializing around him as he did.  
"Yes. You are the perfect little warrior. That will be my nickname for you so that you know you are alone and defenseless and without hope, my helpless little warrior who cannot stop silly little me from taking away what is hers. How does that make you feel? Oh I know. You and I will have such a good time together." His words dripped with lust and sarcasm. She shuddered with revulsion.  
"Let me up." She croaked, "Give me back my clothes."  
"Oh, but they aren't your clothes, they're mine that I generously loaned you. And you are at my command and not I at yours. I will let you up when I feel I want to, get used to it you may stay there the rest of your life little warrior." She seethed at him cursing him in her head in every tongue she knew. But that was still not enough.  
"Then again I guess I will have to release you some time." He snapped his hands and the metal rings binding her to the table came open with a click. She lay there a moment in deceptive exhaustion. Leareth bent towards her and then she moved.  
  
She moved quickly as she had on the battle field her honed reactions sending her foot up and out, connecting squarely between his legs. He cursed, but instead of doubling over like most men he came towards her till he was only an inch from her bare chest. He picked her up and slung her against the nearest wall, and all went black.  
  
She woke up to see Della's worried face,  
"Are you alright? I was just told. You've been knocked out a day and Leareth never bothered to tell anyone. Well I'm to give you a bath and see that you have not broken your scull."  
"I'm fine I think." Wyr reached up to the back of her head and felt the raw bump there and winced.  
"I cleaned up the dried blood in your hair as best I could already, but you'll need to do the rest. Do you think you could get up and into the tub?" Della asked pointing to the metal basin filled with steaming water.  
"I think so." Wyr said, stumbling to her feet and swaying over to the tub with Della's support and help.  
  
The room swayed a moment as she settled down in the hot water. She felt dizzy but the hot water was a blessing. She cleaned the rest of the sticky dried blood out of her hair and the rest of her body as well.  
"What did you do?" asked Della.  
"I kicked him in the balls." She said, Della looked aghast, and then put her hand up to her mouth to stifle a giggle. "He grabbed me and threw me into the wall." Wyr explained, motioning to the two bruises on her chest. Della sucked in her breath.  
"So that is what those are for. I knew he could be a bit hard when he.never mind. But I couldn't figure how you contrived those. Do you want me to get you ointment?"  
"If you would I would be very much obliged."  
"Then I will, don't go anywhere."  
"Where would I go?" Wyr answered with dry irony. Della flashed Wyr a small grin and went to get ointment.  
  
Della came back with ointment and helped Wyr out of the bath tub. Wyr swayed on her feet and Della brought out a stool and put a towel on it and made Wyr sit down.  
"Now know I am not in any for Shay'a'chern or She'chorne or Bi, but if you would like as a friend, I would be willing to apply the ointment for you." Della said tentatively.  
"I wouldn't mind at all, I don't think it can do much without my head killing me." Said Wyr, it was the truth, her head lanced her with pain and she was immobile. And too, she was no more She'chorne then her mother who had married her father.  
  
Wyr gasped at first as Della applied the ointment, she felt as if her chest had been used for pells, well I guess that's what happens when someone grabs you there and slams you into walls both sides. Ah, well...  
"You know," Della said, "I think he deserved that. Yes he definitely deserved that. Women should do that to him more often." She giggled a bit. And Wyr smiled happy that someone was on her side and felt the same way she did.  
  
Della gave Wyr her clothes back and left, promising to come when she could, though that might be a while. Wyr lay down to sleep truly rather then the black-out unconsciousness of her concussion, as Della told her she had.  
  
Days passed again, light and dark the same as one another. Wyr slept and ate and sat and slept again. She was glad though for this schedule of sleeping eating and barely anything else. She was not tortured then she was safe in a way. She exercised when she was not sitting, sleeping or eating. She ran laps around her little cell. She did practice sword dances even though she had no sword. She used her wooden spoons to practice throwing knives. Many broken wooden spoons were returned to bemused servants.  
  
Wyr calculated that it had been probably at least a month or two since she had first come into this place out of the storm. That blizzard was over. But she had no chance of escape. She was followed by guards, or she was in her cell, or.well that wasn't to think about. She wondered if anyone would look for her, likely not. They did not know where to look. The only person who might know where she was was that man in white she had rescued earlier. And she had told him to run and not look back or think back. He probably did just that. She couldn't blame him. She would have done just that.  
  
Then again the guards came to her cell. She was on her feet when they came in.  
"No."  
"No what?" asked the guard.  
"No I will not go with you. You'll have to force me."  
"Really, miss I don't wish to quarrel."  
"Well you have one."  
"Master Dark wants you conscious."  
"That's not my problem. I'm not leaving."  
"I'm sorry then." said the guard. She was ready when he tackled her. But she did not keep her side for long in the tussle that ensued. And she ended up slung like as sack of grain over the taller guards shoulder.  
  
She was brought to The Room. Leareth was there already. "Strap her to the table. We will have lots of fun today!" he smiled ruthlessly. She shivered hoping that the worst would not happen.  
  
She was strapped to the table and then the guards left. Leareth came to her side, breathing down her neck.  
"So, did you like our excitement last time?" she couldn't speak, she only whimpered a sound thick in her throat. She couldn't help it,  
"No, please. I'm sorry." Her traitorous mouth began to babble. He took one elegant marble-white and ice-cold hand and laid it gently across her mouth. She froze.  
"That's better, I accept your apology. Will you be willing to do what I ask of you?"  
"No, but I will never insult you anymore." She said, regaining her runaway mouth.  
"Ah, then we have still more work to do. Today, for instance; are you going to be corporative today?" he said. Her eyes widened and she whimpered again, that horrible animal noise. But she couldn't speak.  
"Good. Now." it was no better then the time before. She closed her eyes so she could not see the lust pleasure in his face. Her mind seemed to leave her tortured body. She thought of it in an abstract. It was not happening to her. It was someone else's body. Someone who looked like her, someone she used to be till her body was no longer of use other then something to contain her. The container of her body was now a restraint. She wanted to be rid of it. She wanted to be rid of what it meant. Rid of the horrors it had. Rid of the new life it carried.  
  
She opened her eyes. He was robed again, standing slightly from her. He was breathing almost as hard as she. Her knees were weak. It hurt! People talked of pleasure, men talked of pleasure. But he was hard. Her head hurt, and her sides heaved and she thought it was probably not the best thing for the new life inside her.  
"You will be a good mother for my children." He said as if reading her thoughts. She winced. It was alright to think of it in the abstract and her head. But to hear it clear out from his lips made her cringe and quiver. "And if I'm not mistaken you have the Mage-Gift in potential so that doubles the luck that this child will have Mage powers. All the better. I believe you will bear many of my children." He continued, he looked at her lying vulnerable chained on the table. She felt as his eyes pierced her flesh, they devoured her with glee. She shuddered again and closed her own eyes to block out his.  
  
"But you should be of more use then just a reproductive mechanism. You don't have to be beautiful to bare a child. But it is nice that you are attractive. Yes, but that is only the skin and defects on you will not pass to your child." She opened her eyes trying to see what he was about.  
"So why not? Why shouldn't I have some fun?" she didn't have an answer, but it was probably a rhetorical question anyway. He looked at her and a smile crept over his mouth.  
  
He left the room to talk with the guards. He came back only a moment later. He smiled and said nothing. Wyr closed her eyes trying to blot everything out if only for a moment.  
  
She opened her eyes at an odd sound like a crackling flame. It was a flame. Out of nowhere a fire was roaring in a hearth at one side of the room. It couldn't be for her, even though she welcomed the heat on her clammy bear skin. She wondered what it was for. She soon found out and was unhappy she had ever wondered.  
  
Leareth came over to her and pushed the bed near to the fire without unleashing her. He then took out a poker and began arranging the fire so it was at the hottest it could be. Wyr began to warm fully. The poker was glowing red and Wyr wondered when he'd remove it.  
  
Leareth drew the red-hot poker from the fire and held it above his face. He blew on it and it flare brighter in the burst of oxygen. He smiled and the glow of the poker illuminated odd shadows in his face where the rest of his body was dark against the roaring fire behind that.  
"Do you know pain?" He whispered.  
"Yes." She said hoarsely.  
"No, you don't know pain. But I can show you." He said leaning in toward Wyr. He held the hot-poker a inch from her face. She suddenly knew what the hot poker was for. She leaned away from the poker, pressing back into the table.  
"No." she whispered, who to she didn't know.  
"Yes." He said back, and brought the poker down across her cheek. She screamed.  
  
She sat crying. The salty tears rolled down her cheeks, even though they stung on the welting burn across her cheek. Her chest had a few burns down the middle. Thankfully some of that area had been spared. Her stomach had several long burns, her thighs too, and her feet. Leareth stood in front of her, holding the now cool poker.  
  
"I.Hate.you." She growled, it took a heroic effort. But she had to say it.  
"Tsk, tsk. You should know better then to say that."  
"It's.true. You are.a.cruel.self-endearing.Bastard!" she spat.  
"Naughty little warrior. You might sink yourself into more trouble then you want."  
"Fight me!" she snarled. Regaining her torn voice which was husky and rasping from her screams.  
"I will." He said coolly.  
  
She stood swaying with exhaustion in the middle of the room; the table was pushed to one side. She couldn't help it. Even with her battle trained nerves, she had been away from the field so long that her reflexes had dulled, not a great deal, but enough to count. And what with her fatigue and physical shape.she was in no condition to do anything. She sighed. What had she gotten into this for? She should have just stayed passive. But that was against her nature. If she did not keep that then all would be lost. If she lost her personality she would become a toy, a huge life-sized doll, then where would she be?  
  
Leareth stepped to her so he was just a foot from her.  
"We will do this formally." He handed her a dagger. Smirking as she saw how next to worthless it was. But if there was one thing she had learned as a mercenary it was that everything could be a weapon and no matter how crummy of worthless seeming it had thousands of uses.  
  
Leareth bowed to her and she returned the curt little bow. They took two steps apart and began. It was unfair from the start. He, clothed and likely protected, herself stark naked, he with magic and guards to back him up, her with a pot-metal dagger of bad workmanship.  
  
They circled, each aware of the others every move; waiting, expecting, watching. They prowled like that a few moments, and then Leareth launched himself. But she was ready, and even with her slow reactions she fended him off and scored a lash across his cheek with her dagger. She tried not to think what her face must look like. Bruised, burnt and a scratch across her brow and cheek. Her ear as well was in a bad state, a critical one actually, he had almost cut off the top of her ear. It dangled a bit, still attached to her head, but no longer attached to her lower ear.  
  
They tussled a few more times. Leareth always came out on the better side. But Wyr felt her strength going. She would not hold out. She couldn't much longer. She had to do something. She knew. She had practiced throwing daggers with the spoons. She wrenched away from Leareth fatal embrace just as the cool steel reached for her throat. It was good he was not looking for a kill; if he wanted one he could have had it more then once. No he just wanted obedience.  
  
She crouched readying the dagger in her and. Then she straightened. Leareth looked at her puzzled. He did not see the dagger in her hand; he was looking for signs of what she would do next in her eyes. She winked at him and launched the knife with a flick of her wrist. His eyes widened but he was no fool. He dodged the coming blade that was aimed to hit a throat and end a life. The knife hit his shoulder. He went down with a 'thunk' to the floor, shock paralyzing his features, but not for long. His eyes blazed with hatred. He stood up and yanked the knife out of his shoulder.  
"If you weren't such a useful bitch little warrior, I would kill you right now." She glared right back, but didn't respond. Leareth called the guards to take her back to her room. Then he himself went in search of the Healer. Wyr glared at his retreating back as the guards gathered her up and led her to her cell.  
  
Della came in almost as soon as the guards locked her in.  
"Play along." She whispered. "We're getting out of here."  
"What?!" said Wyr incredulously.  
"Shhh! Not so loud. I'll explain. But first I have to fix you up so you can travel." Wyr nodded and climbed into the bath Della presented her with.  
  
Soon she was washed and dried and clothed, Della and put ointment on her burns and they no longer hurt quite so bad. Della had wrapped her ear with damp cloth and herbs and done a few other things to it. She regretfully resigned to the fact that, as Della said, her ear would never heal back together, but she could help it stay firm and altogether in place. When she was all cleaned up Della whispered for her to stay quiet and follow along.  
  
Della led the way down the corridor. How she had fooled the guards into thinking that Leareth had told her to take Wyr to she the Healer was beyond Wyr's comprehension. The maid was a born story teller. They stopped outside a closet. Wyr stood guard while Della filched clothes. They darted into a small servants' room where they both changed.  
  
"This is the hard part." said Della, "Getting out without raising the alarm, but Leareth's out-thanks to you and the Healer's potions-so we won't have any one to contradict us. But we'd best on startle anyone. Follow my lead and we'll hope for the best."  
  
They made it out of the House without interference of anyone but a few servants who let them pass as she was the "Lady". The guard was not anywhere to be seen and though that worried Wyr, Della said that it was usual.  
"Our guards a façade, the only real guards are on prisoners rooms."  
  
But when they got the stable the stable boy stopped them.  
"Aint s'posed to let none take th'se 'orses!" he protested when Della asked for a mount. "Masta's rules. Says 'e so, and what 'e says goes."  
"I am on Lord Leareth's orders. I am to take and dispose of this lady." said Della in a low confidential tone as she leaned over towards the boy. Wyr heard but she was not scared. She trusted Della with her life, she was doing so now. She played the part of a Lady being taken unwittingly to her death and with a little cajoling and much acting they managed to wheedle out one horse from the stable boy.  
  
As soon as they had the horse they were on its back and galloping away as fast as the little horse could go. Wyr took the reigns and Della clung to her like a child to her mother. They leaped tree branches and crashed through the underbrush not caring about what ruckus the made but what mileage they got. At night fall they found the road. But they did not stop with the coming of dark. They road one as the night slipped into the wee hours of the next day. They still road as dawn fought above the horizon. Della went to sleep, leaning on Wyr. They slowed from the frenzied gallop into a canter that they continued till the sky had been in full light for an hour. The horse was now laboring and Wyr could hear it in the heavy whuffles of breath. They slowed to a trot and then a walk. They had been riding for more then twelve hours and the horse had been caring two.  
  
Della woke and offered to walk and guide the horse while Wyr slept astride. Wyr agreed.  
  
Wyr roused some hours later as the trees began to thin. The horse was not in such bad shape anymore, but still Wyr's mercenary sense yelled at her to stop.  
"Wyr, we're almost out of the forest. A few miles more and we'll be safe in the village!" Della said from down around Wyr's knee.  
"Great. I think this horse can carry two for that long." So Wyr hoisted Della up and they took of. Less then an hour later the came over a rise to see the lights of the town twinkling below them, and Wyr knew that she was out of Leareth's grasp. Forever. 


End file.
